by Amarie Avant
My heart drums in my ears. So far I’m still innocent, and I’m quietly begging him to take. Licking my lips, I watch the mirrors reflection of him as his middle finger rolls against my juices. It skims across my valley, and then he tastes the gloss from his finger.
His jaw cocks just so. His thick eyebrows kneaded in thought while my lungs are depleted of oxygen, waiting for him to say something. “Mmmm,” his voice is as primitive as a lion’s growl. “I would say sweet, but fuck sweet. It’s water, Zariah, your pussy tastes like water.”
“Vassili!” I seethe. My eyes dart toward my bedroom door. It’s locked, it was locked before we came to the floor, but damn I’m antsy.
“What?” Vassili’s thick Russian accent is as sexy as it is rugged. “Water is my favorite drink.”
“You are infuriating,” I grumble.
“Patience.” His other hand clamps ever so softly around my neck, fingers skimming my jaw. He tilts my neck. My eyes tear away from the reflection of my pussy, my gorgeous pussy—his words not mine.
Our tongues twine as he reaches around my shoulder, deepening the kiss. Then his middle finger slams into my core. Delightful pain courses my ass to arch, cock spearing into my back. Again and again his finger pumps into me as his tongue fucks my mouth.
“Now two,” he says.
Two what? There's no way I can speak. Two what?
“Look, Zariah,” he nudged his square jaw to the mirror again. He pulls his middle finger out, rubbing his index around the liquid lust of it. Then those two fingers press there way inside, feeling some tight resistance.
“Shhh.” Vassili soothes. “You’re tight as fuck, Zariah.”
Oh, I was whimpering. Again my cheeks flame.
“Don't be embarrassed.” He nips at my earlobe, the pain masking that of my core as my pussy widens for his knuckles. I'm in a trance. I can't take my eyes off his white fingers, how they work their way in. Breaking me, freeing me just a little more so I can take the fighter.
“Imagine my cock,” he instructs. “Grind down, baby. Get you ready for me.”
“Mmmm,” I lick my lips, gaze licked onto the mirror. His two fingers submerge into me. My hips grind as told. With his hard body enveloped around my frame, I twirl downward. I imagine his cock, my hands grip onto his forearms. They're made of steel. His cock is made of steel. All of him is. I love this, and I will welcome the fighter stretching me out, filling me with his strength.
“That's right. Get yourself off. Make my pussy wetter.”
“Oh, oh… Vassili,” I can’t stop looking at me, him looking at me. The way his eyes consume, me tells me how beautiful I am. Does that sound crazy? No, I’m aware that I am pretty. I’ve always had confidence in that department. My mom is gorgeous, and she raised me that beauty is on the inside, so I’m double beautiful. But, Vassili’s gaze measures just how beautiful I am. Infinitely beautiful. Damn, how damn beautiful we are together, light and dark in the reflection of the mirror. I ride the waves of my own orgasm.
“Damn it, if you don't have the prettiest fuck face.” He finally offers a grin for the first time tonight. It's to die for.
Fearless will be released very soon…
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